


Bandwagon of outlaws and a monk

by Tsarbucks



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Original Characters - Freeform, original stories - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-07-17 19:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16102160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsarbucks/pseuds/Tsarbucks
Summary: The Adventures of some nerds that most likely have done something illegal within the last 24 hours





	1. Chapter 1

To those who wouldn’t know, Rovidia, my clan, my home, is nothing more than forest, hidden in time by trees and lichen alike. We were a clan that did not believe in the foul ways of the arcane, like many other of our brethren fell hedonist to.    
My birth was long after the clan’s founding. I was created with three other kin of my age. However my lineage dated to my tribe’s present chief. As that to be said, I would one day hold the title of being the chief. 

I was a produced a deviant, birthed under a wicked marking. A branding of the wicked witch of the woods. Doomed to be a forsaken chief, our father banished me to the outskirts of our clan until I could prove myself a worthy hunter in our clan’s Burgess and earned my markings.

A Burgess was a hunting party that assembled during the height of the Harvest moon. They arranged it in a pack like formation; leaders, flanks and covers. I needed to find my rank in the Burgess before I reached the age of 35. 

“I’m not sure what I am supposed to do Shaeous...” I cried, pacing back and forth in our tree dwelling. I look to the man, another forsaken like me, with a desperate whine. I was 34, and I still had no rank in the Burgess. 

Shaeous a 6’7 elf, stood and snorted at me as I panicked. His face contorted as he grinned at me. He was an older elf, around the age of 260, he had salt and cinnamon-colored hair, a goatee, and outrageously furrowed eyebrows. He looked completely normal, the only problem was that he was totally blind since birth, which is considered by my clan deemed forsaken. “You’re simply worrying too much kid... If I was you, I would follow them and take down the biggest piece of prey I see.” He stated. “I know you would be capable to do it, hell, you were easy to take down that dire wolf with just a knife...” He told before smiling. “Kept me warm all winter it sure did...” He added in his thick accent. 

“You don’t realize, they won’t accept me unless I prove myself a worthy hunter to them!” I cried, his reassurance not reassuring me any. “You serven’t understand, I am the next leader of the clan, I have to show-” Shaeous cut me off “That you’re even a part of it.” 

I sigh and sit down on the chair behind me. “Yes, I have to prove I have a part...” I said defeated. I never felt this worried before, every year felt like this stress was getting worse and worse. But now it was nearly unbearable. 

Shaeous put a hand on my shoulder and chuckled. “Do not worry... Just follow the stars and you’ll find your way to the sea.” The man said to me before walking off. I looked over my shoulder, slightly confused about what the old bat was saying. And I went outside to rest. 

The next morning was the last day I had to prepare myself for the Burgess. I finally decided to listen to Shae and not wait for an invitation. I would just follow up behind as a flanker and help them take down some game for the winter season.  

She ran through her normal stomping path to collect water, honey, berries and more feathers for her arrows. As she stopped to fill up her canteen of water, she stopped to look down at herself, her hair was long and black, her ears were long and pointy, her face was elegantly shaped, with a strong jaw a defining features. The only flaw to her was an ugly branding on her forehead, it was shaped like a crying deer. She focused on it for a couple of seconds before getting frustrated and splashing her reflection away and got back to work. 

When I had finally returned back to the Forsaken Hollow, it was near dusk. I would have to get moving soon. I put on my hunters bag, a pouch that slung over my shoulder, my quiver and arrows, along with my bow. My bow was dark chestnut color, the lower limb had engravings that I had carved into it many seasons ago, the upper limb had the symbols of the forest gods, that would keep me safe upon my hunt. I had no need for an arrow rest, as I thought it only obscured my aim, Instead I used my hand to steady the arrow. As I prepared all of my things, I whispered a blessing to my bow and dashed out of Hollow without saying goodbye, which I would soon later regret deeply.

I made it in time to watch the Burgess begin and watch many other trained elves jump through the forest as the sun set. It was my turn to jump in, there was no turning back. I followed after one of them, climbing and dodging through the trees as gracefully and as quietly as I could. Apparently it seemed to work because the elf did not notice me, she simply continued looking for tracks. 

I passed her quickly and started to look for prey, I quietly tip toed through the woods, listening to every creak, every howl, and every chirp. Until I heard, growling. I looked up and the tail of a mountain lion rested above me. quickly I unsheathed my dagger and rolled away before the lion got the jump on me. The lion dropped to the forest floor, gracefully and dangerously, it’s eyes focused solely on me. I snarled at the beast in hopes to intimidate the creature, but instead the creature pounced towards me. 

Quickly I dodged behind it, and before I could slash it with my blade it was already back around, trying to swat me with it’s paw. I moved my head away but not fast enough without getting to two large scratch marks. I yelp in pain and I slash upwards with my knife as I bring my hand to my face. I hit the Lion and it roared in pain as I slashed through a part of it’s bicep and neck.

Even though I didn’t cut deep, the lion seemingly started to spasm, and then I remembered that I had poisoned my blade earlier. I watched the creature try to back up, but it stumbled and fell to the ground, it tried to pathetically pick it self back up but simply fell again, and again, until it could no longer move its legs. 

I watched mercilessly as the poor creature desperately tried to escape, and smiled at it. I put the poor creature out of it’s misery before returning back to my hunt, my face still stinging terribly in pain.

As I quietly run through the woods, I notice the tracks of a deer and I begin to track them. Soon enough I can hear the faint trickling of water and I realize that i am right near Morcald river. As I look over the shrubbery and over to the river, my attention is drawn towards a huge buck, easily 500 pounds over seasoned. I pulled out my bow and stalked closer to the creature. This deer was abnormally big, if I was able to take it down I could easily find myself leader of the Burgess. So instead of risking an arrow, I take my clean dagger and stalk closer to the creature. 

I check every step I take to not spook the creature away, I am about ten feet away from it now, just a couple of more steps and I would make my move. I got to a desired distance, and I lunged towards the buck. My knife dug into it’s side and before I knew it I felt unimaginable pain, I felt like I was on fire.  
    
I awake to the strange and distant sound of crackling. I peak my eyes open, and dread fills my heart as I realize that where I am laying is too hot, and the crackling is getting closer. Fire. I tense myself and leap off the ground, to look up at my surroundings.

The deer, my prey, was nothing more than bones now, and... as I look, and my eyes adjust to the warm light around me, the mark of the wicked was on the crown of the Deers skull. I cried out in fear as I looked around. The forest was on fire, my home was burning down. 

As quickly as I could I tried to run back to the Clans base, but my people had already evacuated. So I ran to the forsaken Hollow, where I found Shae trying to get out of the fiery hold. It had surrounded the Hollow, and there was no way of me getting to him. I cried out, I screamed for him to run to me. But he could not hear me and I watched in horror as his form was consumed by flames. 

I cried, but I continued to run, I ran until I felt the blessing of rain on my skin, as it began to pour not too long after the fire had started. I was still crying and soon I was able to find the others... but they were waiting for me in all the wrong ways. My Clan leader stood atop of a rock in the center of the clearing, trying to calm his people. When he saw me run out of the woods, scarred and burnt, his face turned sour. 

“We have nothing to blame mother earth for, we only have those forsaken to blame!” He called me out, I looked around, desperately trying to understand what the man meant. “Look at her forehead and look at the disgusting mark of the beast glowing on her!” He screamed. “We should’ve never let her live near here. If it was up to me she shouldn’t had lived at all!” He confessed before stepping down off the rock. “This fire was arcane, and you’re the only demon blood here who can possess such an ability. It is against our gods to kill you, but this devastation is your fault, the souls that died tonight are on your hands, and you will now be exiled.” He spat at me. My mind was breaking, I couldn’t fight, or say anything, all of this destruction was my fault? Shaeous died because of me? I felt myself stumble, and nearly throw up. 

“I will accept...” I paused. “Your judgment.” I said, bowing my head although I wanted to puke. I turned away, and I walked back into the charred woods, mindlessly. I returned back to the deer, and I broke away it’s skull, and put it into my bag. 

I walked for hours, until I had reached the end of the forest, where I looked up to the stars and saw only smoke. I sobbed, and fell to my knees. Never in my life, even as forsaken did I feel so alone, and so demonic. 

The sun rose however and I followed it, farther and farther away from my home. Soon I reached such a large body of water, never in my life had I seen such a large amount of water. I walked down to the waterfront and I noticed what looked like houses down the front. I curiously tilted my head and walked over to the strange buildings. There were many more of them, what looked like hundreds, I followed along closer and found myself following a small elf like creature. I tapped it’s shoulder and as it faced me I got a better inspection to realize that this creature was no elf, no pointed ears, or markings... “What are you?” I asked it. The creature gave me a funny look. “Ship Captain, I er, reckon yer a land lubber?” I tilted my head. “Do you speak my language?” I asked it. The creature now looked displeased. “Listen ‘ere missy, I don’t got time to congivate.... Congiucate- Communicate with people who ain’t even been on me ship. I reckon you best hurry along.” He said before walking away from me. 

“But wait!” I called. The captain turned and looked at me. “I need to go far away. Does a ship help me do that?” I asked the creature. he looked at me and he started to laugh loudly. “Does it help ya get far? Hah! My ship could take you to the moonstone Isles and back in a night.” He bellowed. “All for the right price of course.” He said.  
   
I had no money, as forsaken I never needed it. I simply pulled out my poisoned dagger and handed it to him sheathed. “That is my poisoned blade, it is a valuable weapon, that could take down large prey by one cut.” She said, “Please help me...” She said quietly. The captain looked at the blade, and then to the elf, she looked hurt. he handed her back the blade and shook his head. “Cost me nothing to get ya from here to Phlan. Ya just gotta make yerself yer own food... What is your name?” He asked me.

What was I supposed to say, my clan had exiled me, my name meant nothing anymore. I needed a name. “My name....” I paused. “My name is Rovidia.” 


	2. Lawrence

Under full disclosure, Rovidia had ever much fun playing a bully in veil. 

 

She had found herself in a pub after she had split from her party to take up a bounty hunting job. A fortune teller that had disappeared right before the fall of Phlan. 

 

She didn’t care about the reason there was a bounty on this man, nor did she desire the money. However, the material presented was that the mans’ name was Lawrence Rovidia, (which to her is not a coincidence) and that the man was particularly insightful about curses. She wanted this man to read her fate and explain to her why she was scourged. 

 

First was finding where he was last spotted. She learned they wanted him for assassinating a high noble in Melvaunt, then later fleeing to Phlan with a bounty on his head. After the fall of Phlan most would have suspected he had perished, but if this man was as capable and as treacherous as described, then how could anybody be sure?

 

She pushed up from the bench at the bar, removing her mask and made her way to a table seated by two dwarven men who were whispering about spies in Mulmaster. Gracefully she sat down and offered the men a brew. 

 

The one dwarf to her right, an elder; with greys forming in his red beard eyed Rovidia and then grinned. “Certain I can never say no to a complimentary drink...” He boasted, his accent thick for Rovidia to make out. She concluded she would talk to the other dwarf to her left, a much younger gentleman with black hair and yellowish eyes. She raises a hand to the innkeeper to serve her three pints. Then turned back to the dwarves and smiled. “Ordinarily I don’t offer to pay without something in return.” She admitted in a mellow accent. 

 

The innkeeper brought three steel mugs of malt for the three and she flipped the man a gold piece. She watched until the innkeeper returned to the bar before speaking again. She recognized that now both of the expressions on the men had changed from cheerful to uncertain. “Don’t fear, I am simply seeking information about one individual.” She promised. “Aye? And whom might that be?” Inquired the elder. “I am seeking a fortune teller by the call of Lawrence. I overheard you both murmuring about spies so I thought perhaps you fine gentlemen would know where I could find such a man.” 

 

The men stared at her and one of them snorted. “Ya think she’s looking for that demon blood?” The elder asked to the younger man. The younger man however was silent and glanced elsewhere. Rovidia observed. “I assume your friend might know a little something about it.” She declared with a grin. 

 

The younger man glanced aside from her and nodded. “He ain’t a demon blood I don’t think but, if you’re seeking Lawrence Rovidia... The only thing I know about him is that he had a cabin in Elmwood. If he escaped from Phlan that’s where I would assume he would go.” The younger man explained. 

 

“How did you come across this information if you don’t mind me asking?” Rovidia asked more polite than before. 

 

The dwarf finally looked at her. “I used to work in Melvaunt as a sailor, I had met the man at a pub one night, seemed all lost...” The man said somberly before perking. “He read my fortune and told me to stay away from the water... As a sailor it seemed ridiculous but... something made me trust him. Ended up saving my life because the next place I was going to was Phlan.” He said. 

 

Rovidia smiled at the dwarf, as much as that story was adorable, the man who read his fortune was a murderer. Nothing more. 

 

She excused herself from the table and wished the dwarves fair winds and steady seas. She stepped out into the cold damp air of Mulmaster. She figured out that she despised this place. It was dirty and dank, and she was not a fan of either. But luckily she was able to find a lead to a place that she certainly would’ve liked more; Elmwood. She was going to be making her way on foot, horses and carriages were not her thing. 

 

It’s interesting, watching nature encroach on the human habitation the further she walked. Flat, packed dirt roads, worn with the boot-prints of thousands of other travelers, become narrow, muddy trails. The occasional sight of an old camp or firepit, becomes replaced with an unbroken treeline. After a while, the only indication of human life is the occasional rock or tree trunk with names and dates carved in.

 

It’s a nice hike. The air is cool, though breezy, and the views are inspiring, with lush plants and towering pines and jaw-dropping vistas and flower-speckled fields. Even without gawking at the scenery, there’s a relaxing wildness everywhere they look. Rays of the sun create a dappled canopy on the ground, songbirds birds chatter relentlessly, and unknowable things skitter away when she accidentally steps on the undergrowth invading the trails. The terrain is rugged, with dips and humps in the earth, the occasional gnarled root or protruding rock primed to trip someone. 

 

It was evening when she had reached Elmwood, it was mid evening, the sun was setting down and she could make out the outline of a village from the forest she was walking out of. The Moonsea glimmering with golden light as the sun let its last rays stretch out above the horizon. 

 

She smiled inwardly at the beautiful sight before hightailing into town. A couple of farmers were walking in baskets of their harvest and children were playing out in the street. It was peaceful but she could not shake the feeling that the people there were not that welcoming of outsiders. She couldn’t really blame them with how she understood people. 

 

As she began her search for a lead she brought herself to the Still waters and she started her hunt for the investigation. She realized that a lot of the people that were in this inn, were not easily bribed with drinks for information regarding this mysterious fortune teller. 

 

But she did find her lead as to where Lawrence’s cabin, the cabin was set in a small clearing in the woods not too far down stream of the river, where the beams of sunlight shimmered through the green leaves. The smell of pine wafted through her nose and the musty smell of smoke drifted from the real log fire in the corner, giving great indication that someone was indeed home.

 

She maintained a good distance from the house, not wanting to give the host the idea that she was there. She scouted around and made sure that whatever way she would go in, he could not go out some tricked door. Soon she walked up to the door of this cabin, it was a dark oak color and had one handle perched rather low to Rovidia’s waist, and no lock. quietly she tried to pull on the door. It didn’t budge. She tried pushing it and then braking the handle, but neither one worked. Soon she just knocked on the door in defeat, and there the door squeaked open and she was able to step inside. 

 

As she stepped into the cabin the warmth hits her, kindly welcoming her in with the sound of crackling dried leaves and the smell of comfort from the stone chimney fire place central of the room everything in the room the sofa, the wooden engraved coffee table? She made note of a grand painting above the sideboard, a grand raven perched over a golden branch directs to the fire almost being entertained by the the nights main feature. She notices stuffed deer heads which make her feel very unease and bear rug that lays in front of the fireplace as. As she steps in, the door behind her closes, and she makes no attempt to open it. 

 

“If you’re here to kill me you’re a little late.” Came a voice from the shadows before a large, creature attacked Rovidia, all she could see was a flash of white hair and... horns? 

 

She tossed the attacker off of her and slammed them into the ground. Even though the attacker had the jump on her, he was incredibly weak... Did he even try to put up a fight? 

 

Now since the creature was pinned to the ground she could get in better detail what her attacker looked like. A white haired and purple skinned creature that looked similar to a human, she had never seen anything like it. It had great, curling horns atop of his head, and rough facial hair that looked like he had not shaved in a day or too. The man also reeked of alcohol. 

 

“Do it...” The man spat. “Kill me.” When he said that, Rovidia let go of him and rose from the ground. “I am not here to kill you.” She said. “I have heard you can read fortunes... and are a man of knowledge.” The man was silent as he rose from the ground. He was easily a foot shorter than the woman. 

 

“I need you to help me lift a curse...” She said and watched the man’s expression go flat. “The cursed cannot lift curses. Besides, what could a young elf like you be cursed with?” he asked in his raspy voice. 

 

She looked at him through her mask, and untied the string that held it to her face, revealing a brand mark on her head. Lawrence looked at it, and his eyes grew wide as if he were sobering up. Rovidia beat him to the next sentence. “I need you to change my fate.” She said. “I can protect you if you can at least try to help me.” She begged. 

 

Lawrence, a man who looked older now, seemed as if he completely ignored what she said, and told her to take a seat while he gathered some things. 

 

Rovidia did as she was told and waited quietly in the cabin while he went upstairs, she could hear clattering and his footsteps as he looked for something, but her attention was brought to a note, and a bottle of ale left half empty on the counter. She reached over to grab the note, but Lawrence cleared his throat as he walked down the stairs, as if he knew she was going to take it. “Listen ranger, I don’t know why you would come here to meddle in my affairs.” He grunted as he dropped his books in front of her. 

 

“I assume you know my name...?” Lawrence asked and Rovidia nodded. “Do you have a name or am I going to have to call you ranger all the time?” He asked. Rovidia was skeptical about giving the man her name, but she reluctantly told him. “My name is Rovidia...” She said, and Lawrence looked at her, like he was a curious young man. 

 

“There’s a coincidence.” He laughed casually. “But that mark however is something I believe is not.” He said, pointing to her crown. “I believe I have something similar.” He said, pulling down the right side of his shirt. Rovidia’s eyes widened as she was shown a similar marking. A raven but in the same style the way Rovidia’s was. “I would’ve never thought I would meet a person, not only a person of chance, but a person with a similar marking of that of my own.” He said. “All I know about these markings is that they are powerful, and spread on victims of it’s attack.” Lawrence said.

 

“Thank you I already knew that.” She said, pointing to her mask. Lawrence looked over to it, and studied it. “You killed a deer?” He asked and she nodded. “The skull was burnt... how did the fire start...?” He asked, looking over to her and she looked like she did not want to answer that. “Did you start the fire?” He asked and she nodded. 

 

“Interesting...” He said quietly. He opened up his books and began to read some passages in a language that Rovidia had never seen. 

 

His studying went on for an hour or so, and soon enough he became agitated and closed another book. “None of the books in my library have anything pertaining to this. I never gave my marking a second thought.” He mumbled. “I can’t help you without any books.” He said with a shrug. 

 

“But you must help... I have come all this way-” She started. “For nothing without my books, or a library.” He interrupted. 

 

“Then you could come back with me to Mulmaster.” She offered. “I promise you, you will be safe under my protection and I can pay for some place for you to live.” She begged. “Just help me.”

 

The man mumbled quietly. And told her he would sleep on the idea, and that he was going to go to sleep now. She was offered the couch for the night and while she laid herself down to catch a wink of sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder what all of her friends were doing back in Mulmaster. Probably drinking. With that thought she quietly slipped into her dreams. 

 

The next morning she had woken up to a bag getting tossed on her. It was Lawrence’s bag, filled with small trinkets that he wasn’t going to leave behind. “My bounty still exists. But if you say things are as bad as they are I don’t think they will worry to much about me.” He said. “I will need your protection. If I’m not allowed to use magic I will need you strength.” He said. 

 

“You have my word.” She vowed, rising from the couch to help the man pack, when she had stumbled on a sketch of Lawrence, a woman and a child. And as she focused on the picture he snatched it out of her hand. “Don’t touch those pictures...” He said, putting them away in his bag. 

 

Rovidia was suspicious of the man but at the same time felt like he was a fatherly figure. Which made her fear the worst about what happened to the two others in that picture. 

 

They left under the early morning sun and by evening they arrived in Mulmaster. She bought Lawrence a room for the nicer inn and promised him that she would be in the room next door, waiting ready for when he wanted to start his study.


	3. Full disclosure

Rovidia gasped audibly, after her party's long adventure; The necrotic damage had certainly taken a toll on her. She felt unimaginable pain in her legs, they felt like they had been crushed, and which they did. But she was hoping to whatever God would listen to her that they were not broken. Panic and anxiety welled in her stomach for the fear of being bedridden.

Most of the party was keeping an eye on Kythri, which was something she was incredibly grateful for, she could suffer in silence but she wasn't sure how long she could hold up standing.

It was the dark furred, rather intimidating tabaxi fighter; Red Tail that had noticed the elf lagging behind. Discreetly he had slowed up his pace so that he was now standing side-by-side with the much taller elf. "You are injured. " The gruff voice spoke out to her.

The anxiety got worse, she couldn't let her party know that she was not fit to fight. They would abandon her. "That is not true. I am simply sore, I'm not used to normal hand to hand combat." she answered in a calm voice.

"You're lying... " tabaxi confirmed simply. "I can see you limping and you are not holding a steady breath... " he deducted, his voice was rather Gruff and his tongue held his 's's as if he was purring slightly.

"Red, I'm fine-" Rovidia was too busy trying to defend the fact that she was fine when she had stepped into a crevasse that was in the road. Most likely caused by flooding. Her ankle rolled and she stopped breathing. She stood there still, trying her best not to make a sound. But her body began to tremble as she tried to forget about the excruciating pain she was in to walk forward.

"Stop." He growled quietly enough so that no one else heard it except Rovidia, but loud enough to not make her question it. "You're walking on a broken ankle... " he said quietly. He could see her begin to stiffen. "You're going to make your recovery worse by walking on it. Why didn't you say something. "

She was quiet.

He sighed, "You need to stop standing on this," he complained before picking up the large elf over his shoulders and carrying her back to the party. Normally she would have fought, but she felt, sick...

When they got back into town, Red tail brought her back to the inn. He wrapped up her leg and propped it up on a pillow, he told her to rest and that he would be back with medicine.

As she laid there, she took off her mask, her face was tear-stained, her pride broken. But worse, she felt tired... She didn't feel like fighting the sickness that was starting to take hold of her. And just as she was about to close her eyes to rest she realized that this wasn't any normal sickness. She needed Lawrence.

Before Red Tail could return, she made her way to the window, using some of the rope that she had, to climb down from the window to a nearby ledge of another building. Her leg was still in excruciating pain. But there was a sickness, something that was taking over her. She couldn't infect the others with it, if it was contagious. She climbed down from one building and covered herself in her Hood. Realizing that she didn't have her mask anymore she had to cover almost all of her face to hide her horrible marking.

She finally made it to the inn that Lawrence was in, she made her way up the stairs. She was dizzy; she felt nauseous, she slammed her body up against the door. She was almost unable to use her secret knock before she fell to the floor. She waited at the door, half expecting the door to never open and dying there on the ground. When all of a sudden the door open wide and she fell through into the room.

She looked up to see Lawrence's face, his expression warped from Surprise to worry. "Rovidia!" he cried, the worry in his face made her feel somewhat relieved, he wouldn't let her die would he? He knelt down and picked her up and that's when she lost consciousness.

When she had awoken, it was morning, she was laying Lawrence's bed. As she looked around the room, she could see vials of Medicine, Books open, a weird Circle in the floor that look like a marking of some sort. And Lawrence, laying on the couch presumptuously sleeping.

She tried to sit up, but the pain was too bad and she made a small chirping noise, alerting Lawrence that she was awake. He jumped from the couch and faced her. _"Destrio,"_ he cried. Walking over to the bed to make up the distance and stood by her side. "You scared me for a little while. I feared you wouldn't wake up... " he said honestly as he felt her forehead and cupped her cheek. "You must be more careful. You're an adventurer who takes certainly stupid risks." he scolded.

"Why on this good green earth would you be walking on a broken ankle?" he asked sounding like an angry father.

Rovidia just quietly spoke. "I was sick I didn't want the others to get sick... " she softly said.

" you were sick from a fever, which you only got from walking on that leg!" he continued to scold. "Don't you understand that this stuff could kill you?" he asked in an angry tone.

Rovidia looked away and she started to tremble. "I cause enough problems as it is, maybe it would be better off if I was-" Lawrence interrupted her. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, you're only a kid!"

"That has made two lifetimes worth of mistakes!" she roared in her raspy, dry voice.

The tension in the air was very thick. Until Lawrence eventually sighed and sat down on the bed next to her. "You have people... You have me... " he started quietly. "I have done terrible things..." he looked pained. "I have hurt so many people in a need for vengeance. But you, you're hurting yourself in vengeance." He said, taking hold of her hand. "You might be old enough to know right from wrong, just because you've done wrong does not mean you need to punish yourself. You have people who care about you and depend on you just as much as I depend on you now. If you were not here, to help me get from here to there. I would surely be assassinated. " he said.

She looked at him and frowned. "You're living for more than yourself. When you don't take care of yourself, or when you think that you can just get away with doing something like this-" he points to her ankle. "you're only being too much of a coward to take your own life... " he pauses and then looks down at his lap. "So like me you're trying to take yourself away slowly. " he said.

She felt horrible, he was most certainly right about her motive regarding this. But if he knows what she's going through them what has he gone through himself. What horrible memories is she making him dig up? "Lawrence I'm sorry-"

He interrupted. "Don't be sorry, _Change_." he answered. "You've been out for 4 days. I'm sure everyone is worried sick about you. So rest up so that you can go and tell them yourself that you're not dead."


	4. Morg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a ridiculous one shot of our most favorite Barbarian. Rage often my friend.

What a terrible nightmare. Morg thought as he sat up from his cot. He had dream that he had somehow gotten pregnant. The pain in his stomach felt so real...

With that thought, he stood up and felt a very sharp pain in his stomach. He sucked in the deep breath from his teeth and sat back down in defeat. Did he eat rocks again? No, his teeth would have remembered..

Morg sat there and pondered what that pain was until he thought about his sister who had told him that she was having stomach pains when she was pregnant to her late son.

Morg sucked in another deep breath and stood up again, now quite prepared for the pain in his stomach. He rubbed his belly slightly and felt a small lump on it.

"I'm pregnant!" he whispered as well as a half orc could. He walked down from his cot. Down into the main room of his family's home, now much more quiet after his mother and sister were gone. Whatever was happening, morg was surely frightened. If he was pregnant, who was the father? And would he died giving birth to his fatherless child like his mother and sister did.

Morg fumbled around the room, he found the nearest glass of alcohol thinking that if you drink enough alcohol you wouldn't be pregnant anymore.

After he topped off one or two bottles of rum he decided that he was going to need a game plan. His game plan was to go into the city and find a doctor. He didn't know how giving birth worked so he needed to get all the information he could.

He left for the big city the next hour or so, nothing but a bag of rations and a picture of him and his mother and sister. Oh and of course his clothes; which he had to turn around and get.

Once he got into town, he started asking around for a doctor to help him with childbirth. Of course he got a lot of weird stares and a couple of people calling him an idiot. But the did not crush his need to find a doctor..

"Purple man!" Morg called to a tiefling on the sidewalk, the man was sitting in front of a clay pot and infront of the clay pot were strange, funny looking cards.

"Yes?" Asked the Tiefling. "Can find a doctor? I am pregnant!" said Morg.

The tiefling looked at him in bewilderment. Not only was he not expecting a halforc in the city, much less a male asking if it was pregnant.

"My stomach hurt!" said Morg, as he pulled up his shirt to point. "I am getting a baby." Morg cried.

The tiefling was not sure whether or not this man was joking with him, but when he looked at the panic in the Barbarian looking man's eye, he realized that this man was definitely not joking. He groaned slightly to himself and shook his head.

He packed up his things that were on the street and ordered the orc to follow him. Soon he led Morg to an inn, and payed gold for a room.

When they got to the room Lawrence sighed And shut the door behind them. "Okay… so if you're pregnant, how did you get pregnant?" 

"I kissed a dog once." Replied Morg.

The tiefling looked at him and squinted. "So, if you were going to have a baby, where would it be... You know, coming out?" Lawrence asked

They stood there an awkward silence until morg awkwardly pointed to his butt. Making this poor tiefling nearly cry in frustration. "No… that's not where-" he stopped himself. "You're not pregnant."

"But I am, feel the lump!" Morg insisted, as he took off his shirt and awkwardly Pat his own stomach. The tiefling begrudgingly got closer and rubbed his stomach. His white brows furrowed. "What did you eat recently?" 

"I don't know!" Morg cried. 

The tiefling sighed, reaching up to yank a strand of The Barbarians hair. The Barbarian made out of small Yelp of pain. "A'ight what was that for?" Morg Bellowed.

"I will find out what you ate." The tiefling said as he placed the strand of hair into the bowl that he had on the sidewalk. Once he was finished with that, he pulled out a dagger, which made Morg uneasy, and sliced his own hand. A small drop of blood landed on Morg's hair in the bowl.

When the blood touched the strand of hair the hair begin to burn away and be consumed by the blue color. It shines a bright light before sparkling out. After that was finished, the tiefling pulled a card from his deck and than he began to look confused. "You ate a porcupine!?" The tiefling cried out and slammed the card down. 

That's when the memory returned Morg that he did indeed eat a porcupine for lunch yesterday. In fairness, it was rather good.


End file.
